Crossfire
by Vrinda81
Summary: Tura Soyhon, a legendary HPD Vice Squad detective, embarks on a journey of vengeance against the men who raped her and were let off by a bribed judge years ago. Jayna Berringer, a former protégé of Tura and now one of Steve McGarrett's closest aids, finds herself in conflict between her two mentors when she finds out Tura is out for blood.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**I**

The traffic on Bishop Street came to a halt as the gray Impala sped past at breakneck speed. The Ford with the dented fender followed behind in hot pursuit. The driver of the Impala was betting on making a clean getaway, losing the Ford somewhere in the dust, but the latter's driver, Det. Tura Soyhon of the Honolulu Police Department's vice squad, was relentless. She stepped on the gas pedal, increasing speed and putting a close tail on the Impala. Her passenger, Det. Jayna Berringer of Hawaii Five-O, the state's police unit, gripped the passenger door handle with her right hand and her head with her left, thinking that – at any moment – she might go pummeling through the windshield.

The Impala's tires screeched as it rounded the corner and the Ford followed. Jayna was amazed that they didn't hit anyone or anything, but it was no surprise, given that most traffic came to a stop when it heard the police siren.

"You plan on letting us live long enough to catch them?" Jayna asked.

"Of course," Tura said, as she stepped on the accelerator one more time. They were now less than a few feet from the Impala, it's two passengers looking more than fearful than when they started. It continued to speed up, with the Ford in hot pursuit. A dead end leading to a fenced-in lot signaled the end of the road for the merry pair in the Impala, and it came to a screeching halt. The driver and passenger got out with their hands up, and Tura and Jayna rushed over to cuff them.

"Really, Rodrigo," Tura said to the driver, Rodrigo Gomez, "you honestly thought you would get away from me?"

"It was worth a try," Gomez said bitterly. He was stocky Hawaiian of average height, with scruffy black hair, brown eyes, and a thin moustache which resembled a line drawn across the top of his upper lip. His companion, a tanned and sandy kid of European extraction named Marty Spruill, kept silent, probably following his Miranda rights.

Jayna cuffed him and took him to an HPD squad car that had just pulled up. The gray-haired, bespectacled Hawaiian policeman who took charge of Spruill nodded in thanks to Jayna, who responded with, "Thanks, Duke." The other officer with him took Gomez.

Tura wiped the sweat from her forehead and patted Jayna on the shoulder. "Won't McGarrett be proud of you, kiddo," she said.

**II**

Steve McGarrett, the chief of Hawaii's state police unit, Five-O, stood staring out of his balcony, trying to rest his weary brain from the harrowing nature of his work. The last he heard from Jayna, she and Tura had set off to arrest Gomez and Spruill for drug dealing, hoping to find out more about the rest of their network, who they worked for, their suppliers, and clients. He was reluctant to let Jayna go on such a mission, knowing the dangers involved. He heard nothing more after HPD called in to tell him that Tura and Jayna were going after Gomez and Spruill, after raiding their hideout.

Steve's reverie was interrupted by the sound of his second-in-command, Danny Williams, entering.

"Steve," he called out.

Steve turned around. "Yes, Danno?" he asked, addressing his curly-haired assistant by his nickname. "Did you hear anything about Jayna?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" he stepped aside to let Jayna in. She looked frazzled, but still managed to smile at her boss.

Steve's eyes began to water as he smiled back. He slowly made his way towards Jayna. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her right shoulder blade, closing his eyes, and gently whispering, "Thank God."

"Thank, Tura," Jayna replied, snuggling into him like he was giant teddy bear. "She was driving."

Steve stepped back, still holding onto Jayna's shoulders. "Where is she?" he asked.

"At Vice, probably getting from her boss the same thing I'm getting from you," Jayna answered.

**III**

Commissioner Dann watched as the reporters started clicking away with their cameras, the flashes from their cameras' light bulbs creating an extra luminescence around Tura and the commissioner.

"Commissioner," a reporter asked. "Does the apprehension of these two suspects mean there could be more arrests in regards to drug dealing on Oahu's South Shore?"

"We cannot be certain, but the two arrests are only the beginning," Dann replied. "Gomez and Spruill were just the tip of the iceberg …" he looked to the doorway of the press room, where Tura Soyhon stood, with Jayna, Steve and Danno behind. Looking to get out from under the scrutinizing eyes of the reporters, Dann pointed at Tura and Jayna. "There are the officers who caught them."

The reporters flocked to the two women. The questions started coming out in rapid progression.

"Was it your intent to chase them all over the city?"

"How did you know about their hideout?"

"Any leads on who they're working for?"

Tura and Jayna didn't answer a single question individually. When the questioning died down, Tura replied, "We did what we had to, and if we could have cut out the car chase, we would have. We don't know who Gomez and Spruill's bosses are, but you'll find out after we do." It was her way of being blunt, while not stringing them along.

Dann motioned for Tura and Jayna to come closer. They did, with Steve and Danno following closely. The reporters started to besiege Steve with the same line of questioning, which he fended off with the simple, "No comment."

On the platform, Dann shook Tura's hand while the reporters photographed her. Jayna could only smile and applaud her friend and mentor. The arrest of these two drug pushers was indeed vital to busting the drug ring infecting Honolulu, because even if they didn't talk, HPD and Five-O would gather enough evidence to find the next link the in the chain. They rounded up several workers in that makeshift drug plant, many of whom would gladly talk for clemency, and there were ledgers and other files in an office there, listing many of their clients, and there was a great probability that at least one of them would name names.

Outside, the parking lot was empty, except for two patrolmen who were just pulling in. Tura strode to her car, taking in cool tropical breeze and warm Hawaiian sun. It was the first moment of peace she had in a while, and she was still not completely finished with this case, but that was not what was bothering her now. She didn't turn when she heard the footsteps approaching, but she could see Jayna Berringer out of the corner of her eye.

"It's a mad house in there," Jayna replied.

"If you only knew what it was like in here." Tura pointed to her head. "I feel like my head's going to explode."

"That's what happens when you eat, sleep, and breathe crime," Jayna replied, "but it's got to be something else …"

Tura sighed. "I've nailed drug dealers, pimps, prostitution rings, and illegal gambling joints, but I never found those creeps, those, those monsters …" she clenched her fists, suppressing her rage. Her dark brown hair shook with her fury, and her almond-shaped hazel eyes glinted in anger.

Jayna knew what Tura meant, and it was something for which she herself could never console her. "Those roaches are still around. You knew where they are. Why not to go the DA and tell him to build a case against them?"

"With what?" Tura asked. "… my testimony and some witnesses who were scared away from testifying, and judge who was bought?"

"Those witnesses have nothing to fear now," Jayna urged, "and if they talk, John Manicote will listen. He doesn't cater to big money."

"I'll have to talk to them again," Tura said. "One man will talk – the grocer who saw those jerks in his shop following me out. He testified the first time, but that prosecutor tried to poke holes in his story …"

"I can work on the others," Jayna replied. "Maybe I can get Steve or Danny to come along. They're very persuasive." That was an understatement, but Tura understood. No one put one over on Hawaii Five-O.

"I just want to confront them all, tell them who I am, and what I'm going to do to them." Tura clenched her fist even harder, till her knuckles turned yellow.

"It's not illegal for you to tell who you are," Jayna said. "The rest will have to wait till you get evidence."

"I'm paying a visit to Judge Seymour right now," Tura said. She turned around and got into her car. As she drove away, Jayna felt her body quiver. It could have been the cool tropical breeze that swept over the area, or it could have been Jayna's sixth sense telling her that something was not right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Crossfire**

**Chapter 2**

**I**

Judge Myron Seymour had long-since retired from Hawaii's Supreme Court. He held the position for more than fifteen years, having left it only three years earlier. He lived in a lavish but modest-sized home on Hao Street in Honolulu, tucked into the neighborhood where others of the affluent set lived. He saved and invested his money wisely, and was able to retire from the bench in 1965, with a sizeable nest egg and pension plan to match. His wife, Florence, busied herself with charities and civic organizations, and his children were grown up and living on their own, two in Hawaii and two on the mainland. Seymour was called on from time to time to consult on certain cases but otherwise, his time was his own and he spent it reading, playing golf, taking part in various civic organizations, or taking walks on the beach.

Tura did not expect him to remember her, but when he saw her, she noticed a fear in his eyes, a fieriness that is part fear, part, anger, and part defensive. He knew who she was and why she was there, and he was ready to put up a defensive wall which he felt no one could penetrate. Tura wasn't having it. She was careful not to flat-out accuse him. She wanted to give him a chance to come clean himself.

"I want to know what you remember about those three boys – Arthur Clarens, Gerald Pinheiro, and Martin Slagle," Tura asked. She decided to play it safe and not let on that she suspected him of accepting a bribe. Jayna shrugged. She decided to wait and see where this was going.

Judge Seymour thought a moment, then spoke. "I haven't had any contact with them since the trial," he said. _Are you sure?_ Tura thought sarcastically. Seymour went on, "Arthur Clarens runs a land development company and Gerald Pinheiro runs a gym. Martin Slagle is a lawyer. They are all doing very well, and dredging up this case is not in their best interest.

"So only their interests count, and not mine?" Tura asked. "Are you condoning what they did?"

"In no such way do I condone rape, Detective, but there was no proof those boys attacked you. There were no witnesses except you, and that alley was not brightly lit …"

"So no one else could see them and they could get away," Tura finished. "I saw them follow me out of Alfred Naluai's grocery store. They were in there, hanging around and watching me, and I saw them come out after I did. They followed me and jumped me, dragged me into that alley, and raped me. I've spent the past twenty-one years looking for a way to reopen this case and finally get justice, and I'm going to have it, with or without your cooperation. They're not going to get away with it this time."

"I have no information to share with you, other than that there was – and still is – insufficient evidence. It was your word against theirs …"

"Not for long." Tura stared into Seymour's gray eyes. She could see the fear in them more clearly now. "Just what makes their word more credible than mine?"

"I'm not saying they have more credibility." Seymour was rushing to find the right words. "It's just that you'll need witnesses and physical evidence. You may be able to get the same witnesses from the last trial to testify again, but where will you get physical evidence now? It's been twenty-one years."

"Are you speaking out of concern, or gloating?" Tura asked. She didn't care if she stepped on any toes now.

"I'm only giving you advice," Seymour said. "I have nothing to hide."

"Then you won't mind telling this to the DA," Tura said. She got up. "Don't bother. I'll show myself out."

Seymour was about to speak, but decided not to. Tura wasn't going to listen. He watched as she left, and when he saw her car pull away, he went to the phone.

**II**

Arthur Clarens snubbed out a cigarette and dropped the ash into an ashtray. He walked to the window and stared out at the neighborhood of commercial establishments – banks, dry cleaners, specialty shops, etc., that made up the area around Clarens Construction and Land Development. One of these businesses might decide to move out, and if they sell for the right price, he could swoop down and snatch the building up at a bargain. It was good business sense, and it made his company a profit. The ringing of the phone distracted him and he went to pick it up.

"Hello?" he said. The voice at the other end spoke.

"So she is, is she?" Clarens asked. "It sounds very risky for her to do that … Even then, we can't take any chances. Tell her you know nothing … She can't touch us. There is no physical evidence. There was none then. … She can put together a case if she wants, but lots of luck making it stick. … Not to worry. I'll tell the others. You just go about your business like nothing happened. … Yes, yes, sure. … Bye." He hung up. _So that girl we raped years ago is starting up trouble again, huh? Well, we'll see just how tough she is._ Clarens picked up the phone again, dialed his secretary, and asked her to ring Martin Slagle.

**III**

Jayna waited patiently for Tura to speak. It wasn't until after Tura had emptied the sugar packet into her coffee cup and completely stirred it in, then set down her spoon, that she spoke.

"Seymour's hiding something," she said. "What did your contact at the bank say?"

"They can look into their records as far back as the early forties," Jayna replied. "It's all on microfilm, but we have to come back with a court order."

"We'll ask Manicote," Tura replied.

"How do you know that Seymour was bribed?" Jayna asked. "Who would have told you?""

"He was promoted very fast after the trial," Tura answered. "He went from the circuit court to the appellate court to the Hawaiian Supreme Court in one year, and no one questioned that."

"That has happened sometimes," Jayna replied. "There's got to be more than that."

"His elections were without any question, and there more qualified judges than he who were not even considered, but there is one who is willing to talk – Judge Thomas Norwood. He talked to me quite a bit about Seymour. He mentioned some recent purchases that Seymour had made at that time. Mrs. Seymour was sporting some diamond jewelry, and they got a new car for their teenage son."

"Judge Norwood sounds bitter," Jayna said, signaling the waitress for a refill.

"I was the one who contacted him, just on a hunch," Tura replied. "He didn't pour himself out to me. I had to do some poking and prodding, but he came around in the end. He couldn't say for certain that Seymour was paid off, but he did notice a lot of things which made it look that way – the jewelry, the car, his mortgage being paid off. These were all things that Norwood saw or heard from Seymour himself. Though Seymour wasn't bragging, it was hard for him not to share his good fortune."

"I see what you mean. It might not be too hard to get to the bottom of his cash flow at that time," Jayna replied.

"Judge Seymour had an impressive track record with the Supreme Court, so it's not going to be easy to poke holes in his character."

"That's something Five-O's been able to do in the past," Jayna replied. "This should be no different."

"If those men's families are still lining the judicial system's pockets like they were twenty years ago, it will be different," Tura said. "Seymour might have been trying to intimidate me, but we were partially right: there isn't much to go on, except those witnesses willing to speak now. I know the defense will try to poke holes in their statements – it's been so many years, how are they so sure they remember what they saw, and all that."

"Steve wouldn't let me back down if I was up against those odds, and he won't let you, either," Jayna said.

Tura picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. "You think a lot about Steve, don't you?" She smiled, with her cheeks turning a rosy shade of gold.

Jayna knew Tura wasn't looking for a real answer. She already had it. "More like he thinks a lot about me," she replied. "He has my back, and I have his – and yours."

**IV**

McGarrett beamed and his eyes lit up as one of his star detectives walked in, holding a white paper bag.

"Where have you been?" Steve asked Jayna. "Danno said you went to meet your old mentor, Tura Soyhon. Are you tired of me already?"

Steve spoke mostly in jest. He knew Jayna would never leave him and Five-O, but part of him was serious. Steve felt protective of Jayna, like a father or uncle. He also felt the same way towards his second-in-command, Danny Williams, whom he saw as a younger brother or son. With Jayna, though, the urge to be extra careful with her since she was a woman shone through. It seemed sexist and in this era of feminism and women's liberation, that the belief that a woman needed to be protected was being shirked fast. However, Steve's reasons for wanting to know why Jayna met with Tura were perfectly reasonable. He wanted to make sure Jayna's first responsibilities lay with Five-O and not her former outfits, be it U.S. Intelligence or HPD's Vice Squad.

Jayna opened the paper bag, took out a napkin that was lying at the top, and used it to pull out a chocolate, glaze-covered cruller, the bar-shaped donut that she knew Steve loved.

"Tura sends this with her love," Jayna said, holding it out to Steve. Steve's serious face melted into a smile. It wasn't too hard for Jayna to break Steve's hard shell and find his soft spot.

"How can I refuse?" he asked, accepting the cruller and taking a bite. "What did Tura want with you?"

"She wants to reopen her rape case," Jayna replied. Steve knew about Tura's past, so there was no need for Jayna to explain everything. Tura was thirteen years old, going on an errand for her mother, which she usually did at a grocery store run by Alfred Naluai on South Beretania Street. It was early evening, but the sun set fast. Tura was on her way home, walking along briskly down the street, when the three young punks jumped her, dragged her into an alley, and raped her. The people in the grocery store heard her screams and ran out, and three boys took off down the other end of the alley, that opened up onto Kinau Street in the back. When Naluai, his wife, a clerk in their store, and two customers ran into the alley, the boys fled, but Naluai and his wife identified one of them as Arthur Clarens, the son of a rich and prominent Honolulu family. The other two boys were identified by descriptions Tura, the Naluais, and one of the customers gave. They were Martin Slagle and Gerald Pinheiro.

Slagle and Pinheiro came from middle class families who, while not as influential as the Clarenses, still garnered some clout in Honolulu's business and civic world. Young Slagle's father was a lawyer, and his law partners undoubtedly had a part in paying off Judge Myron Seymour and suppressing some other evidence. They defended the three hoods, after all.

Pinheiro's family was blue collar that ran a successful string of businesses which included furniture stores and gas stations. They had enough dollars to contribute to Judge Seymour's bribe fund. The judge claimed there was insufficient evidence and threw the case out. None of the witnesses were called to testify, and the press had a field day with all sorts of accusations of cover-up and favoritism, which no one in the DA's office bothered to check.

Despite the horror, Tura managed to move on. She forged ahead, becoming a straight-A student at her junior high school, keeping a similarly-high GPA at McKinley High School, becoming active in student council, track and field team, and school newspaper, and went on the University of Hawaii at Manoa to study psychology and criminal justice. Her aim was to become a police officer and put away vermin like Clarens, Slagle, and Pinheiro. She joined the HPD after graduating from college, passed the academy with flying colors, worked her way up from patrol woman to the plain clothes division to the vice squad, and nailed many a drug pusher, pimp, and prostitute, and shut down several illegal gambling rings in the process. It took twenty-three years of backbreaking work but through it all, the one thing that eluded Tura Soyhon was bringing the men who raped her to justice.

Jayna told Steve before about how Tura was trying to gather evidence to bring them to trial again, but he wondered what would make it work now, when the witnesses were willing to talk all along. Practically everyone in Oahu and the other six islands knew the truth, but courts didn't operate on what suspicions. The witnesses were there, but the honesty and fair play on which the court system should have been operating was not. Steve hoped it would be there this time.

Aside from the five witnesses, there was physical evidence that was still in HPD's evidence storage facility, but was thrown out by the court, claiming the warrant used was invalid. That evidence was still sitting in the storage locker, Tura said, but whether it would still be usable after all these years was in doubt. Che Fong, their forensics man, was known to work miracles, but he had not done so on a cold case before. Tura deserved justice nonetheless, and Steve was willing to do whatever it took within the confines of the law to help her.

"Is Tura going to speak to John?" Steve asked, referring to the DA, John Manicote.

"Later on this afternoon," Jayna replied. "She wants to know if we can come."

"Tell her we'll be there," Steve said. He wiped chocolate crumbs from his fingers.

**V**

The car pulled up onto the long driveway, bordered with long rows of yellow and pink hibiscuses. The large house stood up on a hill and the car had to climb up the steep driveway to reach it. Once the gravel settled onto level ground, Arthur Clarens parked and got out. He walked to the large white house with the gray-shingled roof. The old man who sat on the front porch listened peacefully to the chirping birds and brisk winds. A pitcher of lemonade with two tall glasses sat on a tray on table. He was aware that Clarens was approaching, and smiled at him as he came up the front steps.

"Hello, son," Milford Clarens greeted his son. He got up and hugged the younger man. "What brings you here?"

Arthur Clarens sat down and ran a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. "Dad, there's a problem. That girl, Tura, she's reopening the case against Marty and Jerry and me. …"

"Is that all?" Milford asked. "Just how effective can Tura be, anyway? It's been twenty years, after all." He spoke in calm, deep tone of voice, seemingly unbothered by his son's information.

"She's got a tight case," Clarens said. "I heard all about it. I just got the call."

"Unless she can convince the district attorney, nothing will happen," Milford assured him. "All they have left to use are the memories of the witnesses, and that can be questionable after such a long time."

"It's very real," Clarens said. "Tura just approached Judge Seymour. He didn't tell her anything, but what if he does talk?"

"Judge Seymour is in it as deep as the rest of us," Milford replied. "There's nothing to incriminate him. We paid him off, and he resumed his career in the judicial sector, getting all those promotions and retiring with a nice pension. He won't jeopardize that."

"If it comes to saving his own skin, he might," Clarens replied.

"But you forget, we didn't just fill up his wallet," Milford said. "Judge Seymour never knew about this, but we had an ace up our sleeves. There was a little business of him and a girl in his employment some years before, and why she had to quit her job and leave town …"

"You'd bring all that up again?" Clarens asked. "How can you prove that?"

"There are the love letters he wrote to her, which she furnished, and pictures she took," Milford said with an evil grin. "She was most cooperative. For a large sum of money, she gave us all we needed for a suitable blackmail, should the need be there, then she left the islands. Seymour was happy to get rid of her."

"And she'll come out of the woodwork again …" Clarens snapped his fingers. "Just like that?"

Milford laughed. "Of course not. We've got everything we need. All you need to do is make sure that the DA cannot create a case against you."

"We can't go knocking off witnesses," Clarens said."The cops will pounce on us like wildcats."

"No, but you can bribe the witnesses," Milford said. "It's less messy, and money is a universal language." Milford pulled a stray thread from his green cardigan sweater and flicked it away. He seemed so calm and casual about it all, like he was discussing the weather. Clarens was still as nervous as ever. If only his father could have heard that phone call he got.

"Tura will stop at nothing," Clarens said. "She's going to see this through to the end."

"And she will not succeed," Milford said. "How far will she get with witnesses who have forgotten what happened that night? You go back and talk to Martin and Gerald. Tell them to sit tight and wait for further instructions, then come back here tonight. I'll have everything set, and we'll plan our next move."

"Okay, Dad," Clarens said, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiping his forehead. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"As sure as I did twenty-one years ago," Milford said. He picked up the pitcher of lemonade, poured some into one of the tall glasses, and held it out to his son. "Have some. It's fresh." Arthur Clarens took the glass and took a long, deep sip.


	3. Chapter 3

**Crossfire**

**Chapter 3**

**I**

John Manicote was mystified, but also in awe. Despite his and everyone else's doubts, Tura was able to put together a compelling case. She had the five witnesses willing to talk: shopkeeper Alfred Naluai and his wife, Margaret; their assistant shopkeeper at that time, Joseph Kauhane; and two long-time customers, Kimiko Noguchi, and Fred Alvarez. Kimiko was now a retired schoolteacher and Alvarez worked in a meat-packing plant. A note from Che said that HPD found the physical evidence from the case at HPD's evidence storage unit and sent it to him for testing. He should have the final results in sometime today.

Each gave their statements separately and to different officers. Kimiko Noguchi was a woman of direct and simple speech, but she knew what she was talking about and proved her memory to be very sharp, even remembering what items she bought that night. Her hair was the color of salt and pepper, but her brown eyes were sharp and penetrating. She said she wanted to testify at the first trial, but was only called to verify that Tura was in the shop, as were the three accused. The prosecutor didn't ask her any questions about what she saw in the alley, which would have included Arthur Clarens, whom she saw as clear as day.

Fred Alvarez had a Spanish name, but his face told of ancestry across the South Pacific. One of his great-grandparents was Spanish, he said, hence the name Alvarez. Just like Mrs. Noguchi, he went to the Naluais' grocery store that evening to pick up two loaves of bread, one dozen eggs, a gallon of milk, and some paper towels. He remembered seeing Arthur Clarens in the shop, along with Martin Slagle. If Gerald Pinheiro was there, Alvarez did not see him. Clarens and Slagle didn't do anything suspicious that he remembered. He just regarded them as two more shoppers. He remembered Tura because she stood three places in front of him at the checkout stand. She left, and he saw the two boys follow soon after. The bell above the door jingled every time it was opened, so he noticed when they left. It was a few minutes into the clerk ringing up his order that they heard the screams coming from outside, and he, Alfred Naluai, Margaret Naluai, Mrs. Noguchi, and Kauhane all ran out. Kauhane was sweeping the floor and was still carrying his broom. When they got to the alley, they saw the boys standing around Tura, who lay crumpled on the floor, screaming and her clothes torn off. Alvarez remembered Kauhane swinging his broom and Naluai shouting out to those boys to leave Tura alone. The boys saw the mob coming and ran. In the outdoor light from a nearby shop, he could see Clarens's face clearly once more.

John Kauhane was trained in martial arts and was ready to use the broomstick on those punks like a Bo staff. His account was similar to Alvarez's. He saw Clarens and Slagle in the shop. They were browsing and he didn't see them approach Tura in any way, not even a catcall or whistle. When she left, they casually walked out, albeit a few minutes after she did. He made the same statements in nineteen forty-seven, and Duke Lukela from HPD was lucky enough to find those statements so Five-O could compare them to what everyone said now. There was little variation. Some details were omitted either because they were forgotten or they were not important enough to begin with.

Alfred Naluai was an energetic man in his late sixties. He was slender and of average height, but his memory was as sharp as Mrs. Noguchi's. He knew Tura well from her frequent trips to his store, but had never seen Clarens or Slagle in his store until that night. He knew who Arthur Clarens was from his picture in the society page, and had seen him driving around Honolulu in his red nineteen forty-six Ford convertible. He had never seen Martin Slagle until that night. He didn't see Gerald Pinheiro until Naluai ran into the alley and saw three boys rather than two. He saw enough of Slagle and Pinheiro to give a description to the police sketch artist at that time.

Margaret Naluai told a similar story. Standing about the same height as her husband, she wore her hair dyed a mahogany black and tied in a bun. Her tone was as direct as Mrs. Noguchi's, and she was even more vociferous in her anger towards the three boys and the justice system.

"How those three monsters could get away with what they did is unbelievable," she said, crumpling a portion of the skirt on her flower-printed dress. "They should have been arrested long ago. They should be in jail!"

"With your help, Mrs. Naluai, we'll be able to do that," Steve said.

"If you need any more information, you know where to find me." She got up. "I would have brought those boys in myself if I had the chance."

_I have no doubt you would,_ Steve thought as he watched her leave.

"It's unbelievable, Steve," Manicote told him. "We've got five witnesses, all with compelling testimony, and only one was asked by the prosecution to testify, and all she was asked were two trivial questions."

"This wasn't on your watch, John," Steve said, "so you can't blame yourself." He patted Manicote's shoulder.

"But they could have done something about it," Manicote replied, his gray-green eyes displaying sadness. "Look at what it did to Tura. She managed to make something out of herself, but at what cost? The justice system didn't even care to protect her! It's unforgivable!"

"Who was the prosecutor in that original trial?" Steve asked. "Someone named Grimsby?"

"Griswold. Danforth Griswold," Manicote answered. "He later became the attorney general and retired from government life around the time Judge Seymour did."

"Maybe we should have a talk with him as well," Steve suggested, "and find the officers who investigated this case. If they were this thorough in examining all the evidence and interviewing witnesses, they were probably interested in seeking justice and not anyone's money."

Just then Danno and Jayna came over to them. "Che just called and says he's gone through all the physical evidence from the HPD storage unit," Danno said. "He wants us to come over."

"We're on our way!" Steve said.

**II**

Che Fong, HPD's top forensic scientist, held up a plastic bag containing the broken link from a wristwatch strap.

"I matched my findings with the results the investigators got in nineteen forty-seven, and they were on target. This link is from a silver wrist watch Tura said she ripped off one of her attackers. When the police doctor examined each of the boys at the time, he found that while Slagle wore a wrist watch, Clarens did not, but had an impression in his skin where a wrist watch might have been. Pinheiro had no such impression on his skin and said he didn't own a watch. Clarens said he didn't wear his watch that night.

"They traced the link to manufacturer who used that metal in watches they made for Rolex and Timex. Arthur's parents said he had a Rolex watch, but it broke some months earlier and they didn't know where it was. A search of the local jewelry stores came up with one shop, Crawford's on Bishop Street, who sold a silver men's Rolex watch to Mrs. Gail Clarens, Arthur's mother, a year before the rape. The receipts said it was a birthday gift to Arthur."

"And yet none of this was mentioned at the trial," Steve said.

"They paid Judge Seymour and Danforth Griswold very well to keep this hushed up," Tura said, not hiding her contempt.

"I checked on all this information. The same manufacturer still makes these watches and Crawford's still sells them."

"Go on," Steve asked, intrigued.

"The police dusted that alley for fingerprints as well, and they found the fingerprints of all three boys on some garbage can lids and crates, and …" Che held up another plastic bag, this one containing a yellow slip of paper resembling a receipt. It was unfolded, and they could see the handwriting and numerical amounts in their different columns. The name of the venue, the Twilight Lounge, was written in fancy lettering at the top, "… this is a receipt from a nightclub called the Twilight Lounge. It's on North Pauahi Street, only a few miles away from Naluai's shop. The food and drinks on the bill were paid for with a credit card …"

"The last four digits of which matched a credit card owned by Arthur Clarens," Jayna finished.

"Exactly," Che said. "The date on the receipt was the day before, July nineteenth."

"Imagine Arthur Clarens trying to explain all that on the witness stand," Steve said. "He would have been sweating bullets."

"Yet Seymour suppressed all this," Danno said. "Just how much was it worth to him to let those creeps go free?"

"It was too high a price, Danno," Steve replied. "Griswold was also lax in his examination. If he did his job, it would have been harder for Judge Seymour to have any power. He couldn't keep objecting unless there was a good reason, so it's easier to get the prosecutor to do a third-rate job of questioning."

Manicote, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke up. "We should be able to get a grand jury to vote for an indictment in no time." He shook his index finger in the air. "All we need is an examination of Seymour and Griswold's financial records. They're both still alive, and still live on the islands."

"The bank is just waiting for the go-ahead," Jayna replied.

"It's just a matter of making sure no one else gets bought," Danno said.

"Judge Palmer won't allow that," Steve said, "and there's always the media, though I don't normally condone their practices, but they will support any and all efforts to expose a cover-up and corruption."

Tura was not celebrating just yet. Her face showed worry and trepidation.

"What's wrong?" Jayna asked.

"Clarens and the others will still put up a fight," Tura said. "His father still holds a lot of sway. I wouldn't be too surprised if Judge Seymour tipped them off and they're plotting something now …"

**III**

The Twilight Lounge was quiet at this time of day. It was closed to customers, but Arnie, the custodian, was cleaning up while the bartender, Jeff, started setting up the bar. Arnie paused for a minute, leaned over his broom, and yawned.

"Playing poker till dawn again, Arnie?" Jeff asked as he wiped the inside of a glass clean. Arnie kept yawning.

"Is there some law against it?" Arnie asked.

"No, but it would be better not to do it if it makes you sleepwalk while you're working," Jeff replied. The phone rang. "Twilight Lounge … yes … yes … okay. I'll tell him." Jeff put the receiver down. "Go get Jerry."

Arnie yawned again and went to a room in the back. "Hey, Boss! Jeff wants to talk to you." Arnie went back to sleepily sweeping the floor. Jerry, formally known as Gerald Pinheiro, emerged from the back and went to the bar. His jet black hair was slicked back with pomade, and his piercing green eyes started sharply at the bartender.

"Yeah, Jeff?" he asked, leaning against the bar.

"Artie called. He said to get started." Jeff rearranged some whiskey bottles in front of a large mirror.

Pinheiro nodded, inhaling deeply. "All right then." He picked up the phone and dialed a number. ….

**IV**

It was nighttime before Tura got back to her house. It was a little gray two-bedroom and two-bathroom ranch on Hauula Homestead Road. The front yard was separated from the sidewalk by a chain-link fence, with pink roses growing over it. Tura parked on the street, opened the gate, got back into her car, and drove in, stopping in front of the garage, then got out and locked the gate. The night air was breezy, and a crescent moon shone prominently in the sky, casting its silver shimmer on every metallic surface. Tura tugged at her suit jacket's collar and went to the front door.

The first thing she did was turn on the lights, and the first thing she saw was the shadow of a man across the wall, which quickly disappeared the minute the lights came on. Tura took out her gun, turned the safety off, and held it downwards as she slowly went towards the kitchen, where her unwanted visitor hid. She heard no more sounds, but her sixth sense told her the intruder will still there.

"Whoever you are, come out here! I have a gun and I'm ready to use it!" Tura called.

There was still no sound. Tura kicked open the swing door that led to the kitchen, expecting to hear the crack of gunfire at any moment. The tall, dark-clothed figure at the end of the room was only visible for a few seconds before the sound of gunfire rang out. Tura hit the ground, firing twice. A ceramic cookie jar shattered, its shards raining over the linoleum tiles. Tura ducked behind a counter and returned fire. The dark-clothed figure turned and ran out.

Tura got up and followed. She burst into the yard, looking around wildly, a part of her hoping the assailant was still around, maybe wounded from one or more of the three gunshots she fired. She ran to the fence at the end of the backyard. The lights from her neighbors' homes illuminated the ground to some degree, and she could make out a trail of dark liquid – perhaps blood. The hill on the other side of the fence was deserted. Whoever he was, he got away. Tura looked all around again. It was as though he had not been there at all. A neighbor had rushed out, and Tura told him to call the police. The night air was calm once more, but Tura had an eerie feeling this would not be for long.


	4. Chapter 4

**Crossfire**

**Chapter 4**

**I**

The HPD men scoured the area surrounding the house. Che Fong bent over the dark red stains in the grass and gathered some up into test tubes. Steve McGarrett stood over him, examining the ground closely.

"Blood?" he asked.

"Most definitely," Che replied, holding the latest sample he collected to the light of his flashlight. "Whoever this guy is, he'll be in need of medical attention right now, or else he'll bleed to death."

"That's a start," Steve said. "Thanks, Che." Steve turned and went to the nearest patrolman.

"Have all available units check out every doctor who treats gunshot wound victims," he told him. The patrolman nodded and ran to his patrol car.

Inside the house, Tura was sitting at her kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee which Jayna had just poured. Jayna's eyes lit up when she saw her boss and she pointed to a chair. Steve sat down and she poured him some coffee. She set the creamer and sugar bowl next to his cup.

"Thanks, Love," Steve said, running a hand through his thick dark hair. He turned to Tura. "Just how many people did you see?"

"Just the one," Tura answered.

"Che says that substance is probably blood, but we won't know for sure till he tests it." He took a sip of coffee.

"He's long gone by now," Tura said, staring at the blue-and-white checkered tablecloth despondently.

"With one bullet in him, he couldn't have gone that far," Jayna interjected.

"I've got some men out searching all the doctors who treat gunshot wounds," Steve said.

"Whoever takes the bullet out of his guy won't advertise," Tura said. She finished her coffee and set the cup back on its saucer. "Their patients pay big bucks for them not to report that they treated them."

"We've got all those covered, too," Steve said, "but now I want to know if you can give me some names … people who might be after you."

"You can start with Arthur Clarens, Martin Slagle, and Gerald Pinheiro," Tura said. "Throw in Milford Clarens, and anyone associated with them."

"It wasn't exactly broadcast to the world that we were reopening the case," Steve replied. He tapped his fingers along the tabletop. "How did they find out?"

"Judge Seymour knew," Tura told him. "I spoke to him …" she sighed. "I wanted to see if he would admit he was bribed, or if I had to go after him like the others. He admitted nothing, and scolded me for even reopening the case. He said we had no evidence."

"It'll all come out soon enough," Jayna replied. "That new car and diamond jewelry couldn't have been paid for in cash. The money had to have been deposited somewhere."

"In the meantime, Judge Seymour will submit to a formal inquiry," Steve said, refilling Tura's coffee cup and his. Jayna was still sipping through her first cup. Just then, Danno came in.

"Guess what? Some people on the beach saw a man climb over the fence and run down the hill towards the beach. He was clutching his arm," the second-in-command said. "He ran in the other direction and disappeared, but we got impressions of his shoes."

"Good work, Danno." Steve got up and patted his partner's shoulder. He paced the small room, snapping his fingers as he pondered the situation. "They might have wanted to scare Tura, not kill her, but if they were to make such a move, it's best to do it before the storm, when everything is calm and we're only in the beginning stages of reopening the case against them – like now – so that means someone tipped them off, but could it be Seymour? He'd have a lot to lose. That would put the focus back on him like we're doing now."

"The best thing to do is put a tail on him," Jayna said.

"You get on it," Steve told her. "Tura, we'll have to have some watching this place. It's too dangerous for you now."

"I won't argue with you there," Tura replied.

"These people aren't going to stop," Jayna reminded them. "Where do we go from here?"

"What was one of the first things I taught you in Vice?" Tura asked.

Jayna suddenly realized she knew the answer to her question all along. "When the heat is on, make the flame grow higher," she answered.

**II**

The man Tura shot lumbered out of the doctor's office on the outskirts of the city, and got into the sedan. The driver didn't say a word and just started driving. They were on the road for a few minutes before the driver spoke.

"Did Doc Mankato ask any questions?" the driver asked.

"No, none," the wounded man replied. "He doesn't know a thing."

"That's good to know. Jerry would be mad if anyone found out about this. I hope that lady cop didn't get a good look at your face."

"She didn't!" the wounded man was annoyed. "I wore a mask. She'd never be able to finger me."

"The boss said to have you lay low," the driver replied, "and I know just the place." He pressed on the accelerator as they sped down the deserted road.

**III**

The look on Judge Seymour's face spoke volumes more than his words. They were in Manicote's office, with the door shut and the curtains drawn. He glared angrily at Steve McGarrett, John Manicote, and Jayna Berringer. He clenched his fists, as though he was doing all he could to keep from using them. Steve and Manicote didn't want to take any chances that someone spying for the Clarenses might be watching from a nearby window. Though it seemed far-fetched, Steve didn't put it past them.

"John, they had me in a corner," Seymour said. "I had to go along with it."

"Go along with a bribe?" Manicote asked. "That doesn't seem possible."

"It was not a bribe in that sense," Seymour said.

"Then please explain," Steve said, not hiding his contempt. Inside, Steve was seething with rage. If it was one thing he hated most, it was officials in positions of authority and trust who abused their power and resorted to criminal acts.

"It was all about a girl … it happened when I was working for a law firm …" Seymour rubbed his face. "I was about to be elected to the bench … I couldn't afford any scandal. I was married and had two young children …

"She was pregnant. She agreed to leave the islands for a small amount of money. I gave her the money and she left. That was ten years before the rape trial. Clarens found out somehow and blackmailed me. He said if I played along with him, he wouldn't report it, and would make things better for me by helping to pay for my campaign for the Supreme Court."

"Did that include a new car for your son and a diamond necklace for your wife?" Steve asked.

"Those were gifts. The necklace was delivered by the jewelry store anonymously. My wife thought I bought it for her, so I went along with it. There was no name on the card. The car was delivered to my house. The dealer said it was all paid for. I didn't question where these things came from. I knew Clarens sent them. He told me so later on."

The look on Manicote's face said he was not convinced. "You accepted all these 'gifts,' not even thinking of the real price you – and several others – had to pay?"

"You sacrificed your own integrity, your self-worth, and for what?" Steve asked. "Once Clarens got you in his pocket, he had you there forever."

"It would have been my career!" Seymour cried. "Such a thing would be damaging back then …"

"It's still damaging, when you agree to tampering with evidence and obstructing justice," Steve replied, his steely eyes glaring daggers at Seymour.

"Would you rather I say 'no,' and have my career and family ruined?" Seymour asked staunchly.

"Was a young girl's life and mind worth it?" Steve asked.

"All right, enough!" Manicote waved his hands in a ceasing manner. He turned to Seymour. "Myron, your testimony can only help this case. You have nothing to lose. I'll talk to Judge Palmer and see what he can do to grant you leniency. All you have to do is prove that Clarens was blackmailing you. The diamond necklace and car are past history. We can't prove where they came from. It would be one man's word against the other."

"I'll do what I can," Seymour replied. "I carried this weight on my shoulders for too many years." He wiped his fingers across his forehead again. Jayna went to the window, parted the curtains slightly and looked out. She got an eerie feeling when she spotted the green Camaro parked across the street. The car wasn't there when she looked outside earlier, and there was a man sitting inside, looking up in her direction.

"You might as well know everything," Seymour said. "I met her at a country club. She said her name was Penelope. She came with one of the men … I can't remember who. It was thirty years ago … We had a fling one night, then a few months later, she shows up at my office and says she's pregnant … I gave her some money and told her never to contact me again. She said she never would and left. I never saw or heard from her after that."

"When did Clarens approach you about this?" Steve asked.

"In nineteen forty-seven, shortly before his son's rape trial began," the judge said. "It wasn't the baby he was blackmailing me over …"

"Then what?" Manicote asked.

"Clarens sent two of his men over to see me. They took out and envelope and opened it. There were photos inside." Seymour closed his eyes, shuddering. "They killed her!" He clenched his fists. "Clarens showed me the pictures. She was beaten, bloodied, her eyes were still open!"

Steve's ocean blue eyes were full of fear. _Had Clarens decided to make his threat of blackmail even worse by changing it from a common scandal of infidelity to murder?_

"They said all he had to do was send those photos to the police, and they would instantly link her to me."

"How could they link her to you?" Steve asked.

"One of the men said he planted a scarf with her blood on it somewhere on the premises of my house, and all it would take would be one phone call to the police to give them an anonymous tip, and I would be in jail by the end of the day. I still refused to comply, but they were so convincing. The last time anyone had seen Penelope was when she came to tell me about the baby and I paid her off. I never saw or heard from her, and none of my friends from the country club had, either. I discreetly asked around. This was all ten years before the rape trial and Clarens blackmailing me. I thought she had left the islands. Then Clarens had her killed …"

"We'll need to check that out further," Manicote said, nodding his head tiredly. "So you did his bidding … just like that?" The DA snapped his fingers.

"What else could I do?" Seymour cried. "He would have ruined me."

"He's done that already," Steve said.

**IV**

Clarens and Slagle were doing their best to hide their nervousness, and Pinheiro was putting more rocks into his gin and tonic. Jeff the bartender continued cleaning the counter, while the piano player practiced for tonight's show.

"These people you hired had better be good." Clarens scribbled on a napkin. "The last one loused things up."

"These people are the best," Pinheiro assured him. "They'll get the job done." Jeff came over and set two more drinks on the table. "They won't fall short." Pinheiro cracked some shelled peanuts and poured the uncovered kernels into his palm.

**V**

Steve McGarrett came home and loosened his tie. Going into the bedroom, he turned on the lights, and saw Sammie, his Burmese cat, lying peacefully on the bed, resembling a black furry rug as she lay curled up. Steve took off his holster and put the gun safely away, inside a small cabinet on his bureau. Sammie got up and looked at her master, letting out a friendly "Meow" to let him know she acknowledged his presence.

"And just what have you been up to?" Steve asked as he picked her up and cuddled her. Despite the affection, Sammie wasn't interested. Steve knew she wanted her dinner, and he took her into the kitchen to give it to her.

Setting the red bowl in front of her, he said, "Dinner is served, Madam." Sammie meowed again in acceptance and stuck her head into the bowl, delicately munching on the combination of chicken, tuna, and gravy that made up her cat food. Steve could only shake his head and laugh. Of all the women he had known, Sammie was the easiest with whom to get along.

The next sound he heard was a combination of a crash and a boom, emanating from the living room. Steve whirled around to see the large man in dark clothes. He was taller than Steve by six inches, towering in at six-feet-six. He was built like a boulder, looking as though he could balance one on his shoulders. His face was round like a bullet on top and completed with a lantern jaw on the bottom. The bullet top was covered in a mop of sandy-colored hair, cropped close to the scalp. The look in his blue eyes was as cold as ice, and his teeth flashed an evil sneer. It was a picture straight out of a horror movie and – like the one about to be attacked or killed in such a movie – Steve found himself too scared to open his mouth to scream. He just stared at the brute in horror. The boulder man remained where he was, and from behind him stepped something which was the direct opposite.

She was much smaller and slender, with long, willowy black hair. Her face was the color of gold, and her eyes a shiny amber. Her lips were painted in deep pink, and her lithe body was better accented through the form-fitting dark green blouse and black slacks she wore. Her manicured hand, with nails painted the same pink as her lips, held a revolver. The look on her face was just as grim as that of her more brutish companion.

"What do you want?" Steve asked, finally able to overcome his fear.

"You, Mr. McGarrett," the woman replied unequivocally. Fear swept over Steve again. For a few seconds, he stood staring into the angry eyes of the boulder man, as the brute came towards him, and the sound of gunfire erupted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Crossfire**

**Chapter 5**

**I**

The gunfire erupted like thunder. Steve dove and hit the ground. He spun around fast, just as the sandy-haired brute came charging at him. There was another crash, and Steve saw pieces of ceramic flying everywhere. He sprang to his feet and grabbed a chair, shattering it over the sandy-haired brute's head. The chair was ineffective against him, and the brute came at Steve once more, pouncing on him and wrapping his gorilla hands around Steve's neck. Steve coughed violently, tried to scream, kicked wildly, and tried desperately to pry the other man's hands loose, but the brute's hands gripped his neck like a vice. Steve was starting to lose consciousness. The room turned fuzzy, like a haze of smoke was enveloping it. He thought this was the end, but something inside kept telling him to fight, but his body was not complying. Just when he thought a heavy black curtain was falling over him, his attacker loosened his grip and threw Steve to the ground.

Soft footsteps came closer, and he opened his eyes to see the petite Asian woman standing over him, this time her gun held to her side, the nozzle pointing directly to the floor. Steve trembled, thinking that any moment, she will open fire. Instead, she turned to the bullet-headed brute.

Steve was too weak to fight, and was filled with horror at what these two monsters had in store for him. The brute picked Steve up and carried him towards the bedroom, and then he heard the sound of gunfire once more.

"LET HIM GO!" a female voice strongly yelled. The brute shook, dropping Steve on the ground. Steve managed to spring to his knees and take cover behind a couch. He saw the boulder man tumble and fall like a tree, and then he heard a woman scream.

What happened next Steve could only attest to in sound: loud thuds and bangs, a woman's voice shouting out to put his hands up, a man calling out to do the same, then more voices and footsteps.

"Steve! Steve!" the female voice called again, this time in a lower tone. Steve recognized it now.

"Jayna! I'm here!" he called out. Jayna Berringer emerged, with Danny Williams behind her. Jayna fell onto her knees and gathered Steve in her arms, resting his head on her shoulder. Steve gently ran his fingers through her long black hair.

"I'm all right," he said. "They didn't do what they came to do." It was rare for Jayna to show such emotions but when she did, Steve knew it was because she needed to.

"We followed them here, Steve," Danno said. "They had a man parked outside the Territorial Building. Jayna saw the car and the license plate number, then checked it out."

Jayna lifted her head, tiredly, and added, "The car was registered to some hood with a long rap sheet … one who would do anything for a buck, but was not afraid to talk. He talked when we got to him and said that something was going to happen to you. He was told to get in touch with this mad pair and tell them to break into your apartment and wait for you to come home."

"We came over after you did," Jayna added, "just in time to see those goons come out of the shadows. Danno busted the door down, and I fired at the woman."

"The mountain man stopped short of strangling me," Steve said through coughs. Jayna helped him get up and took him to the couch. A patrolman handed him a glass of water. Jayna's emotions of five minutes ago disappeared, and her cop brain turned itself back on. "They waited till after I fed Sammie …" Steve turned around anxiously, looking for his beloved pet. Sammie lay curled up under an armchair, and came running out when Steve said her name. She curled up on his lap as he stroked her ebony fur. "That's my girl," he said affectionately.

Danno ran his hand along Sammie's back. She had been a gift from Danno to Steve, Danno choosing a Burmese because they were known for their friendliness and—given the erratic hours of Steve's job—there would be little room for any other friendly female company. Sammie tapped her paw on Danno's hand, then tucked it under her as she closed her eyes and took a catnap. As long as she knew her master was safe and sound, she needn't to do anything else.

"The man refused to give his name, but HPD is running his name to see if any prints are on file. The same with the woman," Danno said.

"She does look familiar," Jayna thought out loud. She only got a good look at the Oriental woman for a few seconds before she opened fire on her. Jayna looked at all the blood that zigzagged across the floor. Whoever got shot, they didn't allow a bullet to stop them. They made a run for it, but didn't get too far.

"The bullet you fired at the woman missed, but the man was hit in the shoulder," Sgt. Duke Lukela said as he walked up to them. "Hi, Steve."

"Hi, Duke," Steve greeted HPD's liaison with Hawaii Five-O. "What say you?"

"The woman driver's license said she was Elizabeth Heng, and lives on 1442 Warren Street, apartment 4B. The man's ID says Carl Essert. We're running their fingerprints through the database," Duke replied. "We'll know if these names are real and if they have records in a few hours." He showed them two evidence bags. One contained a camera, and the other had black plastic tethers. The camera was a Rollei 35, the smallest 35 mm camera in the world, and perfect for snapping photos discreetly and can fit easily into someone's pocket.

"These people had something sinister planned for tonight," Steve said. "I'm glad I missed it."

"Are they locked up?" Danno asked.

"They're asking for their lawyers now," Duke replied, "and they're going to need them."

**II**

The night had faded into morning, and after spending the night at Danno's apartment, Steve insisted on going in to work. His throat still hurt, and his arms were sore, but Doc Bergman said there were no serious injuries, but he insisted on Steve getting as much rest as he could. He allowed Steve to go to work for just a one day, "then it's back home and back into bed for you," Doc said. Governor Jameson and Attorney General Stewart seconded those orders.

The HPD computer came through, and Chin read out the information it printed out.

"The girl's real name is Elizabeth Heng. She's got no record, but her prints were on file because she applied for employment as an au pair. Heng currently works for Gerald Pinheiro at the Twilight Lounge."

"No wonder she looked familiar," Jayna said. "I've seen her working there as a camera girl."

"It's all starting to fit," Steve said, "much too easily."

"When you need someone to get blood on their hands instead of yours, it's hard to find reliable outside help," Danno said. "Since Heng had no priors and Pinheiro thought she and her partner would get away with it, he didn't think of the path leading right back to him."

"That works if Mountain Man has no record, either," Jayna replied. "I doubt it, though."

"You're right, Jayna," Chin told her. "His real name is Carl Essert, formerly of West Germany. He was an avid athlete in his homeland, even competing in the Olympics three times. Now he works as a strongman for Pinheiro. He was a suspect in a break-in and assault, but was released due to insufficient evidence."

"And how will Pinheiro explain his way out of this one?" Steve asked. "I take it Heng and Essert are taking advantage of their Constitutional rights and are not talking?"

"They're demanding to speak to their lawyers," Danno said.

"Their fingerprints are all over your place," Jayna said. "Apparently, they were searching for something."

"Searching for what?" Steve asked. "I didn't keep any papers or evidence related to any of our current cases in my apartment. I don't have any evidence related to Tura's rape case. It's all in the witnesses statements, which Manicote and Judge Palmer already have."

"That doesn't stop them," Jayna said, "but it had to be something specific. Pinheiro wouldn't call in muscle and brains like that unless there was something in particular that they wanted, something very incriminating …"

"Why would they think I had it," Steve asked, "whatever it is?"

"Maybe it wasn't a search for evidence," Danno suggested. "They could have easily killed you, and that would keep us busy and take the focus off Tura's case."

With precision timing, Che Fong entered, no doubt bearing news of his findings on the fingerprints. They were just they expected.

"They match Heng and Essert," Che said. "Most of Heng's prints were found on a cupboard in your den, while Essert's were found on the front door and the broken furniture."

"That figures," Steve said, "since he was the one breaking it."

"What's in your den?" Jayna asked.

"Nothing that would be of interest to anyone," Steve said. "We'll have to take a look again and find out.

**III**

There were still some uniformed HPD men guarding Steve's apartment. One let Steve and Jayna inside. Two were already inside, making sure no one tried to get in from the balcony and also to watch the neighborhood in case anything suspicious was going on. The warzone of hours earlier was intact, and Steve bemoaned having to buy new furniture.

"You were in need of redecorating anyway," Jayna replied. Steve shot her a look that read, _"Is that how you talk to your boss?"_ but Jayna overruled it with an impish smile, which won over Steve all the time.

The war zone continued in Steve's den. The room was painted a bright orange with matching shag carpeting. There were some simple bookshelves and a desk, plus a safe. Tiptoeing over the strewn books, Steve went to the desk and inspected it. The drawers were pulled out and their contents—ordinary office supplies like notebooks and pens—were scattered everywhere.

"What's in there?" Jayna asked, pointing to the safe.

"It's empty," Steve answered. He went over and turned the dial around a few times, then pulled open the door to reveal the bare contents. "The last time I had anything in here was when I brought home that tape of the witness's statement from the Calvert case last month. I took that tape back to Evidence afterwards."

"Is there anything inside these books?" Jayna asked, gesturing to the shelves.

"If I was going to hide anything, it wouldn't be in any of them," Steve told her. "I hid nothing there that they would be after, so when they couldn't find whatever it was, they decided to torture it out of me." Steve looked around. Looking at Jayna, he could tell she was troubled by more than a ransacked apartment.

"Jayna," he asked, "what's wrong?" He walked over and put his arm on her shoulder.

"I keep thinking of what might have happened if I hadn't seen that man in the green car yesterday," she said, looking at the paintings on the orange wall which were now hanging off their fasters at acute angles.

"I don't want to think of it, either," Steve said. "Pinheiro had to have been certain there was something here which they needed, otherwise he wouldn't send his minions here on a hunch."

"Heng had a camera," Jayna said. "Maybe she was going to snap photos of you after Carl had with way, then send us the photos as a warning."

"But we hadn't even filed formal charges yet, and I was not even in charge of the investigation," Steve said.

"Still, you're one of Tura's biggest supporters, and discrediting you will discredit her," Jayna countered.

"I'm going to talk with Miss Heng myself," Steve said, "and I'll get her to talk."

**IV**

Elizabeth Heng looked like the kind of Oriental femme fatale you read about in dime store novels and see in the spy shows on TV. Her look was casual, but yet possessed an air of Eastern mysticism. She sat nonchalantly, smoking her way through a Capri, her pink fingernails nearly puncturing its sides. She blew a puff of smoke in the air, probably in an act of defiance. It didn't deter Steve McGarrett from his line of questioning. The police matron stood by, unassumingly, though Steve could tell the woman wanted to bash Heng's skull into the wall. John Manicote was silent. He wasn't sure if what he was hearing was real, yet he could hear every word the woman said, with bone-chilling precision.

Steve glared at her with scorn. This woman planned to kill him, and maybe even violate him first. If she didn't talk, she would be in big trouble.

"We've got your prints all over my apartment, and we have several witnesses who saw you holding a gun, while your friend Essert tried to strangle me to death." Steve got up and leaned over the table, staring into her evil brown eyes. The woman was unperturbed. She was about to blow another puff of smoke in Steve's face, but he knocked the cigarette out of her mouth. It dropped onto the metal tabletop, making a faint sound. She looked at Steve like she had just gotten an electric shock. The Five-O chief was about to lash into her like a raging bull.

"Your friend Essert just talked, and he told us everything," Steve said. The smug smile on Elizabeth Heng's face disappeared. Steve had struck a raw nerve.

"No, Carl didn't talk!" she exclaimed. "He knows not to do that. Gerald will …" She stopped, as though she realized she was treading on thin ice by admitting to working for Gerald Pinheiro.

"Are you talking about Gerald Pinheiro?" Steve asked.

Heng crossed her arms and looked downwards, not saying a word.

"The silent treatment won't help you," Steve said. "Carl told us everything—about how Gerald Pinheiro hired the two of you to kill me …" He held up the plastic evidence bag containing the camera, "and you were going to document it for posterity, too?"

Manicote took over the conversation this time, since what he had to say was too chilling to come out of Steve's mouth. "Carl told us this …" Manicote held up the evidence bag that contained the Rollei. "You see, he didn't want to add charge of murder charge to the charges of breaking and entering."

"Carl didn't talk," Heng protested. "You are lying."

"We have his sworn statement and he's willing to testify against you," Manicote replied. "If you are that loyal to Gerald Pinheiro, I only hope he cares about you …"

Heng's defiance seemed to be dissipating, and she thought for a few minutes. She laid down her figurative arms, and buckled under.

"Gerald Pinheiro hired Carl and me to break into your apartment and kill you," she said bluntly.

"Why did Pinheiro want McGarrett dead?" Manicote asked. They had a feeling of why, but needed to get it directly from Heng's mouth.

"He didn't tell us why, just to go to his apartment and beat him up." Heng tapped some ashes onto the green plastic ashtray. The cigarette smoke whirled around her, creating a mysterious fog which only added to the mystery of the event.

"What were you looking for in McGarrett's apartment?" Manicote asked.

"We were just rummaging around to make it look like a robbery," Heng answered. She leaned back and put the cigarette in her mouth. Steve and Manicote knew instantly she was lying. Though there was nothing in Steve's apartment that they would want, there was something they thought he had, and Elizabeth Heng knew what it was.

"You only got as far as the den, then what happened?" Steve asked.

"I heard you coming," Heng replied. "I called out to Carl, and we ran into the bedroom."

The den was next to the bedroom. It could have happened that way, but he wasn't sure she was being entirely truthful. She was sticking her neck out by telling this much.

"Miss Heng, how the court treats you in this matter depends largely on the information you give us, how accurate it is, and whether it helps us solve this case," Manicote informed her. "You and Carl Essert didn't just go to Steve McGarrett's apartment to beat him up because Pinheiro told you to. Gerald Pinheiro said much more than that. If you don't tell us all you know, we can't do anything for you."

"He's a ruthless man, Jerry," Heng said, her brown eyes lighting with fear. "He will kill me now."

"He won't," Steve promised her. "I can't promise you your freedom, but I can promise you that we will give you any and all protection we can. Pinheiro won't get anywhere near you."

The girl still looked uncomfortable, but the fear subsided a little, and she said, "All right. I'll tell you what I know."

**V**

If Steve McGarrett could be a raging bull inside, Tura Soyhon was an inferno. Jayna did her best to calm her down, but she couldn't blame her former boss for being angry.

"I told you they would do whatever it took to stop us, and they went too far!" Tura shouted as she thundered out of HPD headquarters, with Jayna trailing behind, trying to reason with her.

"What are you going to do? Drive over to Arthur Clarens's house for a showdown?" Jayna caught up with Tura and stood in front.

"No, I'm going to over to Clarens Construction and warn him. This has gone too far. Now, please, Jayna, get out of the way!" Tura stepped around her and went towards her car.

"I'm going with you," Jayna said. "Don't try and stop me."

"All right. I need a witness anyway." Tura drove just at the speed limit, accelerating to top speed when she could get away with it, and landed in front of Clarens Construction and Land Development. Tura thundered up the steps and into the building, right to the receptionist's desk.

"We're here to speak to Arthur Clarens," she said. "I'm Det. Tura Soyhon of the HPD and this is Officer Jayna Berringer of Hawaii Five-O." The receptionist, a petite blonde with turquoise glasses, who was so thin she looked like her waist would snap in half, looked intimidated, though those words were all that Tura said to her so far.

The girl apprehensively picked up her phone and pressed a button, not taking her gaze off Tura and Jayna the whole time. Maintaining eye contact was her way of staying in control, to show the two policewomen she would not be pushed around, even though they were not confronting her.

"Mister Clarens, a Det. Tura Soyhon …" she leaned forward to read the name off the ID in the badge, "and an Officer Jayna Berringer are to speak to you. … No, just them. … Okay, I'll tell them." She put the receiver down. "He'll see you now," she spoke slowly and carefully. "Go up the elevator to the third floor."

Tura and Jayna took the elevator to the third floor, where Arthur Clarens and his lawyer, Bernard Roldan, were waiting. Roldan was the typical bespectacled and polished lawyer, a thick head of bluish silver hair covering a tanned face, whose brown eyes stared out from thick-rimmed frames. He was around five-feet-ten and wore a suit cut to match his average build, which was neither slender nor muscular.

Arthur Clarens ran a finger through his wavy chestnut hair. The hair was loose and slightly shaggy, in a style that was popular now. It suited the younger man, but that wasn't enough to soften Jayna's attitude towards him. Tura certainly had no love for him. Just as they expected, Clarens looked nervous when Tura and Jayna entered, and it was no surprise when Roldan did most of the talking.

"It is most inappropriate for you to be here, Miss Soyhon," he said.

"And why are you here?" Tura asked, "Unless you knew something happened which your client is in on."

"I know that what you are doing is illegal," Roldan said, "and we could have your badge for this …"

"Along with other things your client's already taken." She glared angrily at Clarens. That look was enough to strike fear in him. "Gerald Pinheiro hired two people to break into Steve McGarrett's apartment and kill him. Just what are you hiding?"

"I am only protecting my client's best interests," Roldan said.

"At the expense of others," Jayna chimed in.

"Miss Berringer, my job is to make sure my client's legal interests are understood and represented, and whatever charges you and Steve McGarrett are leveling against him had better be supported with evidence. So far, only Mr. Pinheiro is involved …"

"And we don't have to dig too far to get to your client!" Jayna pointed at Clarens. "Just why else would Pinheiro hire a West German ex-discus thrower and a Chinese flower vase to break into my boss's apartment, with a knockout drug and tethers on top of that?"

"You will have to prove that my client was involved," Roldan said. "None of this points to Mr. Clarens."

"Not now it doesn't," Tura said, "but it soon will. Just remember he will have to answer to that rape charge."

Roldan looked like he was trying to hide his astonishment. _Did he not know that his client had once been a defendant in a court case years before?_ Maybe he knew, and also knew Arthur was guilty, but was doing his best to look calm and controlling, or was he unaware that he was defending a rapist? He said nothing to indicate he knew or did not. Instead, he resorted to the same bombastic legalese lawyers always use when they have nothing of substance to say, but still want to sound like they have the upper hand.

"You have crossed the line, both of you! The DA will be hearing about this. This is in direct violation of —"

"Steve McGarrett's rights, my rights, and several others!" Tura yelled. "And why does Clarens even need a lawyer, unless he knew we were coming and why?" Tura turned to leave. "See you in court!"

Jayna quickly followed her. Roldan shook his head and Clarens spoke. "She's going to cause a lot of trouble!"

"It was twenty years ago," Roldan said, "there isn't going to be much evidence for the DA to make a solid case."

"They've got all those witnesses," Clarens reminded him, "and with Elizabeth and Carl in custody, they'll talk. They won't hold out for very long."

Roldan took off his glasses. "We'll just have to make sure they don't talk."

"The last thing I need is a body count," Clarens said.

"There won't be any bodies to count if no one finds them," Roldan replied.

**VI**

The movers had taken out the last of the broken furniture and brought in the new furniture. The casualties were a coffee table, a chair that sat against the wall, an end table, two vases, and two lamps that were destroyed. Manicote and Danno thought it might not be safe for Steve to return, but Steve was not going to be put out by any criminals. He would be watching, and waiting, he told the district attorney and his second-in-command.

The den was back in order, and Steve took the time to go through the desk and the bookcase. Just as before, nothing. Like he told Jayna, he didn't keep any evidence from these cases here. Whatever notes he had taken during this investigation were minimal and the notebook in which he wrote them were in his desk drawer at headquarters. It was probably just a last-ditch attempt on Pinheiro's part to obstruct the investigation, but it was out character for him. Pinheiro would send his employees out on a fool's errand, but there was never a chance for Heng or Essert to torture any information out of him, nor did Heng say that they were told to look for something in particular. Heng might not have told them the entire truth, for she would still be in fear of Pinheiro's wrath for talking. Was she hiding something? They would find out nothing more from her, unless she was certain that she was safe from Pinheiro and Clarens's harm. Steve decided it would be safer for him at the beach house until this case was over but, before he left, had one more look around.

He had not been in the kitchen since he went to get Sammie's cat food last night. Mrs. Lilquist, his neighbor, was kind enough to look after Sammie for the time being. Steve looked around in there, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Heng and Essert had to have been hiding in the apartment the whole time after Steve came home and before they showed themselves, but where? It had to have been in the den, not just because it was across the living room from where he was standing, but he had gone into the bedroom, then into the bathroom, and they could not have been in there. The bedroom closet was full of his suits and shoes, so there was no room for anyone to hide in there. That the den was ransacked also proved that theory but still, what were they after?

Then, it occurred to Steve: he was looking for something which wasn't there, but not for something that is there. Heng and Essert may not have been taking anything out of his apartment, but rather putting something in. When he straightened out all the books and the furniture in the den, he noticed a navy blue morocco-bound book he had not seen before. Since he didn't remember where on the shelf it went, he left it on top of the bookcase. Carefully, a handkerchief wrapped around it, he took the book down and opened it. Inside was an uncut brick of cocaine.


	6. Chapter 6

**Crossfire**

**Chapter 6**

**I**

"Pure, uncut coke," Danno said, holding the package in his gloved hands, "and we know who has a hand in the cocaine trade?"

"The Clarens family," Jayna answered.

"Yet, Elizabeth Heng didn't mention it," Danno said. "She believed Carl talked, so why would she leave this out?"

"She may not have known about it. It was only Essert's prints found on the book and the packaging," Steve replied. "Maybe Gerald Pinheiro planned with Carl Essert to plant the cocaine, and kept Heng out of it so the less she knew, the better. Carl could have placed the hallowed-out book in the den when she wasn't looking. They were throwing things around, trying to make it look like they were looking for something, and that's what she admitted to. She may have noticed the package when they set out, but didn't question it. In her line of work, you don't ask too many questions. She also looked very scared when she spoke, like she believed what we said about Carl talking. She admitted that they came to attack me, but not to planting evidence. That suggests she didn't know about the cocaine at all."

"It doesn't take two people to plant cocaine in a closet, either," Jayna replied. "But the cocaine still doesn't fit. We're only guessing."

"It all goes back to Heng's statement, and if she was lying," Steve said. "We'll have to get Essert to talk now."

"He's more stubborn than a herd of mules," Jayna said.

"I think I know a way of getting him to talk," Steve said. He made a toothy grin, and his blue eyes shined. Jayna knew that that grin meant.

**II**

Carl Essert's shoulder had only been grazed by Jayna's bullet. It didn't seem to hurt him at all. The sleeve of a fresh shirt covered the bandaged wound. He gazed angrily at Danno and Manicote as they entered. Bernard Roldan was sitting next to him, of course. The lawyer tapped the pink eraser-end of his pencil against a yellow legal pad and eyed the two other men indifferently.

"What's the matter?" Roldan asked. "Why isn't the supercop McGarrett here?"

"Because of this …" Danno handed them a newspaper. Roldan and Essert looked at the headline. It read: "McGARRETT UNDER INVESTIGATION BY NARCS."

Under it, there was a photo of Steve and his lawyer, Morris Berman, entering the Oahu County Courthouse. The caption says that Steve is answering questions before an Internal Affairs Committee from HPD on a package of uncut cocaine found in his apartment the same night that two people broke in and assaulted him. The article went on in greater detail about the assault, how the cocaine was found, Steve's insistence that he knows nothing about the drugs or how they got into his apartment, and the ongoing investigation.

All the lawyer and his client could do was laugh. "It looks like they finally got the old devil at last." Roldan said. "What was he doing with a brick of cocaine?"

"We thought you might have an answer to that," Manicote replied.

"Just what would I know about such a thing?" Roldan replied, turning icy. "Maybe you should be doing an investigation of your department, Manicote, because obviously they cannot be trusted."

"Your acting is horrendous," Danno said. "The cocaine was found in a hollowed-out book and, mysteriously, Steve McGarrett's fingerprints are nowhere to be found on it." That was a fact ascertained to him by Che Fong, who examined in the book. "However, your client's fingerprints are all over it." Danno gestured to Essert. "He should have worn gloves."

The smirk on Carl Essert's face disappeared, and his blue eyes turned icy. "Look, Williams," he began, "no one is going to accuse me of planting drugs. It's a clever story, but a lie. How do I know you're not lying about McGarrett's fingerprints not being found?"

"Because you were the one who was caught trying to kill him!" Danno yelled loud enough to wake the dead.

This time, it was Roldan's turn to glare at Danno and Manicote. "Mr. Williams, this is absurd! I am shocked that someone of your stature would stoop as low as to fabricate accusations against a client—"

"Watch what you say, Roldan!" Danno snapped. "You shouldn't be talking about false accusations when you're the one making them. That book was examined by our forensics department, and Carl Essert's prints are on it—no one else's."

"That doesn't mean anything," Roldan said. "McGarrett might have handled it with gloves."

"Or your client probably planted it there, so we would find it later," Manicote said. "How would we find out, via an anonymous phone call? Or were you going to kill McGarrett and hope we'd find the coke after a thorough search of his apartment, which is routine in every murder investigation? Then, it could be used to open up a whole new investigation—" Manicote looked at Clarens, "—and take the heat off your other client , Arthur Clarens. Otherwise, there'd be no reason for you—" he pointed back at Essert, "—and Miss Heng to try and kill McGarrett."

Essert was quiet. The iciness remained in his eyes, but Danno could tell it was not from determination to keep up this charade and try to get the upper hand, or from the commonplace hatred of police officers that criminals had. Essert was angry, for some other reason. Danno had to find out.

"Just what's your game, Carl?" he asked. "You've got some personal reason for going after McGarrett?"

"He's a cop. Isn't that reason enough?" he asked. Roldan tried to shush him, but Carl continued. Danno remembered that Carl did not have any prior convictions, and was only a suspect in a break-in and assault, but that was on a business owner who had some issues with Pinheiro. They could find no connection to Steve there. HPD handled that case and Steve played no part in it. Essert might have done the job simply because he was one of Pinheiro's employees, and one of his biggest and strongest at that. However, given the way he attacked Steve – nearly choking him to death rather than using a gun – spoke of deep-seated hatred that spent years being bottled up inside, waiting to explode.

"Mr. Manicote, you are crossing the line!" Roldan snapped.

"No more than you already did!" Danno yelled. "Your client is fighting a losing battle. We've got several witnesses other than Steve McGarrett who saw him try to strangle Steve to death, and Miss Heng trying to turn the place into a shooting gallery, so what defense has your client got?"

"None, except that I hate McGarrett and wish he was dead! I'm glad they found the cocaine, and I hope they lock him away forever for it!" Essert pounded his fist on the wooden tabletop. It shook violently, until Danno pounded on it harder. The force took Roldan and Essert aback. The two stared at Danno in shock. Even Manicote was not expecting Danno to react that way.

"You just gave us a motive for attacking Steve McGarrett," the second-in-command said. "I hope Roldan is as good as a lawyer as everyone thinks, because he's going to need a miracle to get you out of this."

**III**

The interrogation was watched by Steve McGarrett and Jayna Berringer in another room, courtesy of a two-way mirror through which those in the interrogation room could not see what was on the other side.

The dialogue when Danno and Manicote were inside didn't tell much more than they already knew, but what happened once the second-in-command and the district attorney left told them a lot more.

"That was a foolish thing to do," Roldan told Essert. "Just what was Jerry thinking?"

"That if we weren't able to kill McGarrett, we could at least discredit him," Essert said. Hearing those words made Steve's blood boil. He clenched his fist, about to punch the mirror. Jayna sensed something was wrong and gently squeezed Steve's hand.

"Then why try to kill him as well?" Roldan asked. "Was that part of the plan?"

"I was only going to injure him," Carl answered. "Then we would make an anonymous call to the police later and tell them about the brick of cocaine. I didn't know those other policemen were following us. Otherwise, we would have made it out in time."

"Betty said that, except for the part about the coke," Roldan told him.

"She talked? How does that mean anything?" Essert was smug. "They might have been as harsh on her as they tried to be with me. You forget … I was questioned all the time by the state police in Germany. I'm used to the rough treatment."

_Why were the police in Germany questioning him?_ Steve thought. It might not pertain to this case, but it was something to look into.

"Still, she told them about it," Roldan replied. He picked up the legal pad, the first two pages of which were covered in his notations, and threw it back onto the tabletop.

"At least McGarrett is under investigation," Carl said. "That is what Jerry and the others wanted."

"Yes, but it can all come unglued when they get Betty's testimony," Roldan said. "We'll have to get rid of her."

"Keep me out of it," Carl ordered. "I'm already in jail."

"Not you. We'll finish her off some other way," Roldan said.

Steve heard enough. He turned away from the mirror and closed his eyes, then slowly opened them. "It's going to take me years to forget what I just heard."

"So our hunch was correct," Jayna said. "They were trying to set you up. Bruise you up, make the place look like someone robbed it. Call in an anonymous tip about the cocaine later. The police are already investigating you because someone broke in and tried to attack you, but the cocaine actually makes it look worse for Essert. Your fingerprints are not on it, and Essert's are, and it could easily be linked to him."

"Something was going to happen after the phone call," Steve said. "The heroin had a tag on it, from a police evidence storage room. Lt. Nishimura checked it out. That cocaine was part of a haul that was confiscated during a raid last month – a raid I orchestrated. Like Essert said, the prosecution could argue that I used gloves."

"They had it all planned out, nice and neat," Jayna said. "What did Betty Heng tell you?"

"This was all to discredit me and take the DA's office's attention from Tura's rape case and put the focus on me, just like we thought all along." Steve wrung his hands together. "They knew all about it – because you and Tura confronted them." Steve glared at Jayna. He was not mad at her, only upset that Jayna took such action on her own, even though it was not her idea and she as only going along to support Tura, and stop any mêlée that might ensue.

"So you want to tell me I blew the lid off this case, then say so!" Jayna shouted. _If only you knew, _she thought.

Steve looked at his young aid. She could fly off the handle at times, but only when she felt like she was wrong, and she usually had every right to think so.

"You didn't blow the lid off anything," Steve said. "You were just trying to help your old boss, like you help your new boss." Steve put his hand on her shoulder. Jayna gently caressing his knuckles. "At least because of you and Tura, we found out that Clarens is scared of something, otherwise he wouldn't have had Roldan with him when you two came calling."

"You know we can't use what we heard in there." Jayna pointed to the mirror. "Attorney-client privilege."

"We can't use it in court, but we can use it in our investigation," Steve said.

**IV**

Roldan's associate from his law practice posted bail for Betty Heng, as she was only an accessory and didn't assault Steve. Betty had to appear back in court in ten days for her trial, and after giving her complete formal statement to Manicote, she was released on her own recognizance. HPD took her directly to the Shoreline Hotel in Waikiki, making sure no one was following them by taking detours and changing cars in different locations.

Different officers stayed with Betty day and night. Jayna's shift was in the evening, and while no new information could be gleamed from her, Jayna wanted to know just what – if anything – Clarens, Pinheiro, and Slagle had in mind for obstructing justice once more.

The room was as comfortable as they could get on the most economic rate, and Betty plunked onto the mattress and turned over onto her left side, shut her eyes, and tried to fall asleep. Jayna sat in the armchair by the bed, ready to pounce on any intruders, and also wondering what she would say to Betty when she woke up, and how.

Betty Heng might only know what Pinheiro wants her to know, and nothing more. Would he strike again, this time killing one of his associates so she cannot testify? People like him have done it before. Would he try to kill Steve again? Maybe killing was too quick. Men like Pinheiro want their victims to suffer long and hard. Imagine if Steve really was being investigated for drug possession.

Then again, the frame-up was too weak: Essert's fingerprints on the hallowed book, and not Steve's, Steve having no known connection to Essert and Heng before, and Heng talking so quickly. The thought occurred to Jayna that maybe the whole setup was not meant to stick but, what was the intent, then? Then again, when thinking of past frame-ups from cases on which she worked, none of them held up very well, coming unraveled once forensics were examined or with a witness who quickly talked.

Then there was Essert … Jayna could not kill him, though she wanted to. A warning shot or a bullet just to injure him was her orders. She didn't expect to see him again. It had been two years. He was just a suspect in that break-in. She questioned him, then let him go. There was nothing to prove he was involved. Jayna didn't remember it until Duke said his name after they rescued Steve. He just someone she questioned, and Steve would understand if she forgot about him. _But would he find out about the rest?_

Jayna went to the balcony. They were too high up for someone to climb in, and none of the neighboring buildings reached high enough for someone to take a shot from their highest window. The sun was setting, creating a bright orange line on the horizon. Jayna closed the balcony doors and locked them, then drew the curtains in, and went back inside.

**V**

"Carl Essert's background reads like something from a Cold War novel," Danno told his boss. "He competed in three Olympics: Melbourne in fifty-six, Rome in sixty, and Tokyo in sixty-four. West German intelligence was tailing him each time. They suspected him of having contacts with an East German spy ring. They questioned him, as well as his relatives, friends, and co-workers. When he wasn't training with the track and field team, he was toiling away in West Berlin's nightclubs as a bouncer. He immigrated to the U.S. in nineteen sixty-five, and went straight from New York to Hawaii. There is no connection to Tura Soyhon – except that Milford Clarens sponsored him and that breaking and entering case in which he was a suspect was investigated by Vice, though Tura was not the investigating officer."

"Who was?" Steve asked.

"Jayna," Danno answered with trepidation. His hands started to shake, as did the folder he held.

"Did Jayna question him?" Steve asked. His blue eyes darkened.

"Yes, at HPD, then he was released," Danno replied. "There was no evidence to implicate him."

"Yet Jayna never mentioned it," Steve said.

"Maybe she didn't remember," Danno suggested. "It was two years ago and she only spoke to Essert for a few minutes. She may have met with hundreds of people before, during, and after."

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation," Steve said, "but have Jayna speak to me when her shift ends." Steve twirled both ends of a pencil in his hands. "Where did the intelligence information come from?"

"Jonathan Kaye at the Pacific Intelligence Division," Danno responded. "He got the information from the European Division." Steve was looking more distressed as the minutes went by. They knew about Jayna's past with Intelligence, which ended when she joined the HPD – or so they thought.

"Let me see the file," Steve said.

"There is something he warned me about, though," Danno said as he handed the file to his boss.

"What's that?" Steve looked at his young assistant curiously. Danno was nervous and, given what he had to say next, it was understandable.

"Jayna was investigating Carl Essert after he came to Hawaii, Steve. She had been monitoring him since nineteen sixty-five."

Steve read the page in the folder to which Danno was referring. "And apparently, she's still monitoring him," he said grimly.

Steve looked away from his partner. The look on the Five-O chief's face was fearful, a face Danno rarely saw, unless Steve had a good reason to be alarmed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Crossfire**

**Chapter 7**

**I**

Steve looked as if he had just been told that someone close to him had died. There was sadness on his face, a distance in his eyes that could only come from heartache. Steve didn't say a word, but looked at Jayna tiredly, his eyes filled with sorrow. Jayna slowly approached him, looking at her boss's face the whole time. His eyes were soft, the color of the ocean, their sapphire brightness of before having dulled. He sat on a white leather armchair in front of his desk. He knew.

"Jayna, have you been monitoring Carl Essert for Intelligence?" he asked, slowly and calmly.

"Yes," she replied.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve asked, the pain in his voice resounding. Jayna swallowed hard, and stiffened. She didn't know if Steve was coming to pieces at the sound of such a revelation, or if he was going to lash out at her. Instead, he stood still and waited for her response.

"It's part of an Intelligence investigation," she said. To Steve, those were unspeakable words. She was supposed to have quit intelligence work when she joined Five-O. She promised him. Jayna would sooner die than lie to Steve, but there were things stronger than her own convictions with which she had to contend.

Steve sighed, closed his eyes tightly, then opened them. His stomach protruded in and out slowly; in tune with the deep breaths he was taking, trying to stay calm. Hearing such news would naturally upset him. His mouth tightened, and the glare from his steely blue eyes was enough to put fear in the most hardened of men.

"Then you disobeyed me." Steve's voice was like the cold touch of ice. It was enough to make Jayna shiver. She never heard him speak like that before.

"I had been watching Essert all along, since before I was in Intelligence. They couldn't just take me off the case when I left. I knew Essert's habits, the people he knew. I had to stay on it."

"Then you lied to me." His tone was enough to chill the room. "If you had only questioned Essert two years ago and never saw him before or after, I would understand," Steve said, keeping his voice steady, "but there's an entire file which Jonathan Kaye sent over which details your investigation of Essert, and proves that you were watching him for the past three years, yet you said nothing all this time, even after you shot him, and if he was sent by Pinheiro to attack me, why did no one stop him?" Those last words were spoken grimly, almost in a whisper.

"You think I knew about this, and intentionally kept it quiet?" Jayna stood up and looked Steve in the eyes. "You, Steve? You think I'd let anyone harm you if I knew and could stop it?"

Steve raised his eyebrows and his mouth softened. Jayna was one of his closest and most-trusted aides. Steve trusts her with his life, and she with his. He knew she was once a spy, and insisted that she quit completely when she joined Five-O, but even Steve knew full-well that no one leaves Intelligence behind completely.

Steve's face softened, the harsh lines around his mouth disappearing. His eyes turned from sapphire to ocean. "No, Jayna, I'd never think that …" he picked up her hand and squeezed it. Jayna's fingers wrapped themselves around Steve's thumb in turn, returning the feeling of unity he was trying to display. No one and nothing would destroy the bond they had, but they had to keep reminding each other. Steve loosened his grip on Jayna's hand and smiled gently. He ran his hand along her right hairline, pushing back some stray black strands. Jayna's face remained impatient and angry.

"I'd never believe you'd do such a thing!" Steve cried, "But if Intelligence was following Essert around, and they had other spies on him, then one of them had to have known what he was going to do." His voice softened and he kept holding Jayna's hand. It was not the tender caress of a lover, but the firm grip of a friend.

"I wasn't following him around all the time. I couldn't do that twenty-four hours a day. There were other agents who did that when I wasn't able to."

"I was assigned to this case before I ever joined Five-O," Jayna went on. "When I left Intelligence to join the HPD, Jonathan asked me to keep Essert under surveillance, which is all I did. I knew Essert's habits and they were close to nabbing him. I was already one year into the case, I couldn't back out then. That was how we were able to get Gomez and Spruill. Essert was the one who planted the cocaine in the phone booth each month."

"What was Essert doing in Hawaii?" Steve asked. His chair creaked as he shifted his weight.

"He was suspected of being part of a Red spy ring operating out of West Germany," Jayna replied. "It was suspected that he was making contact with other spies when he traveled around the world for training purposes and sporting events."

Jayna inhaled deep, then said, "He was couriering microfilm of top secret Allied operations, given to him by a mole based out of the American army base in West Berlin," Jayna said. "The mole was found, and he gave Essert's name as his contact. Since then, we had spies following Essert all around, and when he moved to Hawaii in nineteen sixty-five, I was assigned to him."

"And you had his phone and apartment wired," Steve said, "yet he said nothing about the plan to attack me or plant the cocaine?"

"Not a word." Jayna shook her head slowly.

"Were any of these contacts working for Pinheiro, Clarens, or Slagle, or anyone associated with them?"

"None." Jayna shook her head. "The espionage stuff had nothing to do with the organized crime, and neither did the break-in in which Essert was a suspect. The business was owned by a mobster who was a rival of Pinheiro's, but Essert's fingerprints were in the room where the break-in occurred. I had to let Essert go, otherwise it would have compromised Intelligence's investigation."

Steve was still stoic, trying to keep his anger bottled up, but Jayna could not placate him by giving him any more information. She already made things worse by telling him this much. Steve sighed, got up and walked to the window on the side of the room. There was silence for a few minutes as he looked outside, unsure of what to say next.

"I won't ask you anything further on this issue with Essert," he said, still looking out the window, "because this is an ongoing investigation …" Steve turned around, "…but you cannot keep such a thing a secret from me anymore. If the defense got hold of this information, our case would go out the window. You also promised me that you would end your association with Intelligence when you joined Five-O …" he turned around and glared at her, his heart wounded. "You're done with Intelligence when this job is over." Steve clenched his fist and thrust it downwards.

"Just what did you want me to do, Steve?" Jayna asked. "This is not some hobby or guilty pleasure. Essert's dangerous. You know that all too well …"

"And they didn't tell you or HPD that they were at my apartment?" Steve asked. The alarms were ringing in both their heads. If the agent who was scheduled to tail Essert saw him and Heng go into Steve's building, they should have called it in. Intelligence knew where Steve lived. It was as though they wanted Essert and Heng to get inside and lay in wait for Steve, where they could easily have killed him.

"The agent told me he followed Essert there, and tried reaching me, but he couldn't get me on the phone. No one called me, either here, at HPD, or on Danny's car phone. The agent then called Philip Norton …"

Steve's eyes opened wide at the mention of Philip Norton. It all made sense to Steve now. Philip Norton was Jayna's boss when she was an agent for Intelligence. Norton was Jonathan Kaye's man in Hawaii, heading Intelligence's Pacific Theater's Hawaiian office. He and Steve had a long rivalry going since Steve was in Naval Intelligence, and it heightened once Jayna joined Five-O. He told Norton just a few months ago that Jayna's work with Intelligence was over.

Now Steve would never let Norton hear the end of this if he could. _Did he hate Steve that much that he would purposely withhold information that could save his life?_ _Was Norton's grudge against Steve, which Steve thought was purely based on professional differences, enough for Norton to want to resort to indirect murder? _Something told Steve it went deeper than severing Jayna's ties with Intelligence. However, he could not allow this incident to obstruct the investigation of Tura's rape. This would play right into the Clarenses' hands.

"Phil …" Jayna stopped. "He was resentful of me leaving Intelligence to work for you but … he wouldn't keep quiet if he knew an enemy spy was coming after you."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Steve said. He sat back down in front of her. "When your case against Essert is complete, you're out of Intelligence for as long as you work for me. I'll make sure Norton knows that."

"I should speak to him first," Jayna said. "It's my responsibility."

Steve just nodded his head, relieved that this issue was resolved. It was a small comfort, though, given everything else that was happening. "Just what is so important about a courier, when it's the whole spy ring Intelligence is after?"

"Essert only led us to some other operatives. There are others, plus we don't know where all that microfilm goes once Essert gives it to his contacts. They just hold onto it or pass it on to someone else. It's a never ending chase." Jayna ran her hand through her straight black hair.

"We're keeping Essert where he is: in jail, to face charges for assault, drug possession, and planting evidence. Roldan can argue all he wants, but the facts shall stand." Steve got up.

"What about that cocaine?" Jayna asked. "Roldan knows by now that that newspaper Danno and Manicote showed him was a fake."

"But it did get him and his client talking," Steve said. "Now we know they planned to attack me. Che's lab work proved I never touched the package or the hallowed-out book, and every clerk at the HPD evidence locker says they never saw me or anyone from this department remove such a package. It's going to be very hard to build a case against me with all that." Steve shook his head. "No, Pinheiro didn't think further enough. Usually, when drugs are found in someone's possession, having them makes you as good as guilty, but with Essert and Heng being in my apartment to start with, my finding the cocaine and turning it in, and Essert's fingerprints on it, we've got an obvious frame-up. We're clear as far as that goes."

Jayna bent her head and closed her eyes. She still could not forget that her undercover work nearly cost Steve his life. She got up, tiredly, and her eyes met Steve's. She wasn't sure what to say at that moment. Steve took care of that for her.

"It's all right, _hoaloha_," Steve said, using the Hawaiian word for beloved friend. "I'm not mad anymore but, please, never keep a secret like that from me again." He put his hand on her shoulder, and smiled.

**II**

Pinheiro threw down the glass from which he was drinking, the remainder of the scotch inside sloshing around the melting ice cubes. Clarens smoked his way through three cigarettes, the ashes of which were smoldering in a marble astray in front of him. Slagle stretched and yawned. Roldan was standing, sweat emanating from his brow.

"All in a day's work for McGarrett," Slagle said, "putting out that phony newspaper story about being busted for possessing horse!"

"And Carl and Betty might talk," Pinheiro said. "They're loyalty only goes so far."

"Carl kept silent, but Betty's weak. She might have talked," Roldan informed them.

"We'll deal with her, and Carl," Clarens said.

Pinheiro picked up the scotch glass and swirled it around. "Carl had a past in West Germany. The police were after him there, and people were after him. Making him disappear isn't an option."

"Then how can you get to him where he is?" Slagle asked. "He'll have double the guards."

"But we have people inside and outside the jail bars," Clarens told him as he uncrossed his legs. "It won't be too hard to get word inside the county jail."

"Then we still have McGarrett and Soyhon to worry about," Roldan said. "They've got some convincing evidence – all those witnesses still willing to testify, proof that Seymour was on the take, and they even questioned Griswold, the prosecutor …"

"Only McGarrett isn't scared," Roldan said. "He had them make up that fake newspaper story about him being investigated for the cocaine. What makes you think he's going to lay low now? And you forgot Tura Soyhon. _She's_ working on the case against you."

"Tura's got to rely on eye witness testimony. What will she do with no eye witnesses left to testify?" Pinheiro put the glass down again. "And we still have McGarrett to worry about."

"Leaving a trail of dead bodies around isn't going to clear us," Slagle said. "If Seymour and Griswold admit to being blackmailed, then we're finished."

"But we're not going to sit quiet," Clarens said. "If Seymour and Griswold are smart, they won't talk. We'll get to them before the cops do."

"You sent Essert and Betty out, and they botched it up," Roldan said. "Was he supposed to knock McGarrett around?"

"I only told him to plant the cocaine, and that was it," Pinheiro said casually. "Betty was supposed to go along to make sure he didn't get out of line."

"That's like having a swan control a vulture," Slagle said.

"Hey, they were the ones who volunteered," Pinheiro replied, "and Betty is good at breaking and entering."

"I'd like to see how she breaks out of this one," Roldan replied. "They've got her under lock and key now, and not in the jail."

"We'll find a way," Pinheiro said, "but first, we have some other mouths to silence."

**III**

Fred Alvarez had just taken out the trash for the night. He opened the back door to let the cat out. It meowed tiredly and walked along down the driveway towards the fence. It would sneak over to the other side from under the fence and meet with a neighbor's cat. _They were both neutered, so no problems there,_ Alvarez thought as he laughed and lit a cigarette.

There was a clang, and Alvarez turned to see one of the garbage cans overturn and a dark figure rise up from behind the other can. Alvarez had just enough time to see the figure before it pounced on him.

**IV**

The crime scene photographer's flashes went off as the forensics team scoured the area. Danno shook his head in dismay. The sheet-covered body of Fred Alvarez was lifted onto a stretcher and put into the mortuary wagon. Doc Bergman packed up his black bag and went over to Danno.

"He was stabbed several times," the doctor said. "Prior to that, he was brutally beaten. Whoever it was, they took him by surprise and had to have outweighed him by a hundred pounds. There are defensive cuts on the dorsal side of the arms, and the palms. He was stabbed in the stomach first, then he must have tried to fend off his attacker and turn over to get away, then he was stabbed in the back. He put up a good fight, right to the end."

Doc and Danno stared at the crimson blood stains that covered the gravel of the driveway. Alvarez's cat, a big orange tom, sat only a few feet away, watching the men suspiciously while he licked his paw. It got up and walked towards the two men, and Danno saw that its paws were also covered in blood.

"Here, boy," Danno said gently as he kneeled down and coaxed the cat towards him. The cat came closer and licked Danno's shoe. He slowly picked it up so as not to alarm it, and held it towards Doc so he could examine the paws.

"It looks like blood all right," he said.

"You think it came from Alvarez's killer?" Danno asked.

"We'll have to test it," Doc said. "If it's a different blood type than Alvarez's, then we're on to something but, he and his killer have the same blood type, then we're stuck."

"What are the chances?" Danno asked. Doc shrugged.

**V**

Carl sat in his prison cell, listening to the sounds of the other inmates talking, the guards' footsteps, and the occasional telephone ringing inside and traffic outside. Roldan said he would send an assistant of his back here with some paperwork. The minutes turned into hours, and Carl was still patient, thinking they would get him out. They'd post bail and he'd be free – for a while. Then he'd disappear. He could easily get out of Hawaii, back to the mainland, or to Hong Kong. He had contacts there. Carl got up when he heard the footsteps approach his cell.

"Hey, Essert, you got a visitor!" the guard called. He turned to the gray-haired man in the matching-colored suit who stood next to him. "You stay here and talk to him." The guard walked away. The gray-haired man was of average height and build, and carried a black leather briefcase.

"Are you here for Mr. Roldan?" Carl asked, getting up off the lower bunk. The gray-haired man came closer, standing right at the iron bars of the cell.

"Yes, and he's got a message for you." The gray-haired man took out a gun with a silencer and pointed it through the bars.

**VI**

"With Alvarez dead, the other witnesses will be scared to talk," Manicote said. "Mrs. Naluai is already having doubts about testifying, and Joseph Kauhane has flat-out refused."

"Of course they would!" yelled Steve, he gestured with his arm, his fingers raised towards the ceiling. "That's just what Clarens, Pinheiro, and Slagle want. Five will get you ten that the hit man was one of Clarens's boys."

"Do you have a name?" asked Manicote.

"There's a guy who works for Clarens named Aleki Kane. He's six-foot-eight and could easily overtake anyone smaller than he, Alvarez included," Danno said. "Kane works for Clarens's construction company. Doc also said that the killer sat on top of Alvarez as he beat him and stabbed him. There was bruising to indicate some heavy weight was placed in his lower torso. It fits in with Kane's physique and his background. He's had a history of beating up people who crossed Clarens."

"We haven't approached him yet," Danno added. "HPD has him under surveillance. He had to have been injured, if he's Alvarez's killer. Alvarez's cat had blood on its paws, which means it might have scratched the killer. Doc's checking to see if the blood is human, and if it matches Alvarez's."

"And Jayna knew about Gomez and Spruill from watching Essert?" Manicote asked Steve. "And Tura never questioned it?"

"Jayna told Tura the tip came from an informant. As long as they caught them, Tura didn't care how they got the information," Steve replied.

"Clarens would have them killed if they did," Manicote said, "but Jayna found out solely from following Essert around? And she didn't arrest Essert when he was overseeing the pickup of the drugs?"

"Intelligence was after him, and they had priority over us," Steve explained. "Those were Jayna's orders. Philip Norton said that Essert has to be turned over to the feds at once."

Manicote nodded his head as though he knew. "I hope she wasn't hiding anything else from you."

Steve nodded and sighed. "She laid all her cards on the table for me. She told me all she could tell, and I believe her."

"That's good enough for me," Manicote replied. "You need question Aleki Kane, and the man who attacked Tura, and we need to give the other witnesses all the protection we can. Without their testimony, we have no case."

"Duke's already on it," Steve assured the DA, "and by now, Roldan must know that we tricked on him about that investigation into my alleged drug possession, then there's Griswold …"

"We need to bring them all in," Manicote said as he picked up his phone. "Get me Judge Palmer …"


End file.
